


Frustrated Affections

by HeronS



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: A very physical conversation, Bottom Spock, Frustrated but loving lovers, M/M, Power Dynamics, Sexy times with lots of meaning, Vulcan sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 20:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11297880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeronS/pseuds/HeronS
Summary: After a particularly trying alien ritual, a very frustrated and aroused starship captain decides to teach his inappropriately amused Vulcan lover a lesson.About love, sex, irritation, control, non-verbal communications, and how the two lovers solve the riddle of Vulcans being able to mate out of season. (I have TOS in mind, but there is no reason why it can't be read as AOS.)





	Frustrated Affections

**Author's Note:**

> Another chapter in my very gen WIP should be up tomorrow - please enjoy this short intermission with a most-decidedly-not-gen one shot. I still blush at writing sex scenes, but it is undeniably fun.

"Come here," Jim growled. His narrowed eyes took in the impeccable and suave form of his lover. Not a hair out of place on the bastard.

Eyes dancing with mirth in an otherwise perfectly calm body, the Vulcan took some unconcerned steps over to him. Insufferable arrogant space elf. Made Jim hard just looking at him. And that was another source of the amusement that bubbled through their mental link.

Jim grabbed at Spock's hands, pulled their bodies flush together and brought the telepath's hands to his temples.

"Feel me," he ordered, and Spock did so, his presence in Jim's mind growing with an elegant flourish.

"As you wish. I submit, however, that there is little in your thoughts that is not already, shall we say, on display." Spock raised an eyebrow and then let his eyes pointedly travel downwards over the captain's heaving chest (bare except for the ceremonial sash given to him with much ado by the haperians) and coming to rest on the very distinct bulge in the mandatory and very revealing tights that had turned out to come with the sash.

That bulge had been the source of much frustration for the captain the last several hours, to the mirth of both his chief medical officer and his first officer.

"You know that I'm not really angry?" Kirk demanded, through gritted teeth.

"Jim, the number of contradictory emotions going through you right now are kaleidoscopic in their chaotic diversity." Spock tilted his head, lips twitching. "You are, after all, only human."

Oh, but that tore it. Kirk pushed him backwards towards the meshed room divider, caught his hands and pinned them to either side of his body. There was a mischievous amusement to the Vulcan's movements even as he yielded to his irritated lover. It made Jim want to kiss him into oblivion, and leave him there.

But he didn't. "I'm not really angry, though, yes?" He demanded again, in a growl.

"No, Jim. You are not really angry." The Vulcan affirmed dutifully. He looked like he was about to say something else, a playful tilt to his head, but Jim beat him to it.

"Then get down on your knees," he hissed, complementing the order with a firm push. The Vulcan slid down the wall behind him with insufferable controlled grace, and Jim was once again reminded of how the thought of those muscles rippling under his hands had nearly driven him mad during the last few hours. That, and, admittedly, the breasts. And the multiple alien organs. And the smell, oh great bird, the smell of the harperians as they held their most solemn treaty signing ceremony, complete with the ritual coupling of the high priests happening nearly in his lap.

It had been a perfectly exquisite hell, not in the least helped by the far-too-knowing but seemingly innocuous running commentary of his shipmates, enjoying the show (fully clothed, damn them) from the safety of the politely disinterested public stands a few meters away. Yes, damn them both. He'd had to sit through the proceedings (the very vocal and long proceedings just in front of him) and make bland small-talk with a nude and amply endowed Treasurer in his lap, because that was, of course, how haperians liked to sit with their new friends and allies.

Jim groaned as much from the memory as from the feeling of his first officer's hands undoing his pants and then, as the fabric fell down, the further sensation of those long, skilled fingers travelling backwards to grab at the mounds of his cheeks.

"I must say, Jim, that this desire that I sense in you to 'teach me a lesson' is ill served by this particular opening gambit. A tactical error..."

God, words of more than one syllable. Not fair. "Shut up, Commander. Suck me."

The Vulcan's eyebrows said an eloquent and amused 'very well', and then Jim was being touched and he grasped at the mesh divider for support as the world became pure lightning.

It helped.

Low-level aggravation drove James Kirk insane. But thinking with his pulse hammering at his throat and adrenaline coursing through his system - that was his specialty.

He reached down and took control of Spock's movements, right hand fisting in the dark hair. Slower. Controlled. He let the Vulcan work for almost half a minute, but then stilled his head with a firm grip. Spock's eyes had fluttered shut, but after a few seconds he opened them, the eyelashes blinking an inquiry. Jim was pleased to see that the movement was already a little slow. "Stay still," he commanded and firmed the black head against the metallic mesh. He made a carefully controlled push deep into the waiting mouth. Throat muscles caressed him and he let out a groan as he followed his own orders. Perfectly still. He pulled out again after a few seconds, checking their mental link more out of principle than any real concern. Then he pushed in again.

He took his lover's mouth slowly for a few long minutes. Speed wasn't of essence, had never been, for him. Control was. His fingers stirred through the black hair, sometimes petting, sometimes lightly pulling. He could feel his own banked arousal make its way over to his bond mate, piercing the telepath's shields in a way that the sudden, desperate, horny lust from this afternoon never could.

Vulcans rarely mated out of season. It had taken some experimentation to find a way around that. Fortunately, Spock was a dedicated and meticulous researcher.

Now the Vulcan beneath him made a small, involuntary sound of longing. His eyelids were down but Jim could see the eyes beneath them flicker to and fro rapidly. It almost looked like REM sleep. Instead of pushing his hard cock in again, Jim slid down next to him, pressing their torsos together as he took a firm grip of the the other's waist. "Up," he whispered and tugged. Without Spock helping, the human would never be able to maneuver his dense body anywhere.

He directed it over to the bed now, a scarce meter away on the other side of the mesh. Spock's legs were trembling slightly and his eyes remained closed. Jim could feel him focusing on their bond, drinking in his human lover's arousal. Jim divested them of their clothes with practiced movements, breath controlled.

During the screaming dizziness of a suborbital space launch, a starship captain's pulse wasn't supposed to rise more than few heartbeats per minute. There were tests. This was a little like that, if only because his need for this man made a part of his mind dizzy with abject want.

Jim Kirk was an expert in compartmentalization, however. And another one of those compartments were making its presence known.

"Really, Spock," he murmured as he pushed the other down on his back on the bunk and descended on top of him. "Amusement at the misfortune of your fellow sentients. Shocking."

From somewhere deep down, he felt Spock start formulating a protest at this characterization but he spoke over it. "Just shocking."

Jim bent down and bit lightly at the right ear and was rewarded with a shudder. Spock's own body was finally waking, kickstarted by the stream of arousal washing over him from his captain.

"There I was, high up on that stand," he continued as he made his way downwards with tiny sharp bites and soothing kisses, "Unable to do a single thing to take the pressure off without causing a diplomatic incident. Do you know," he asked conversationally and then stopped to attack a straining nipple. Spock hissed and bucked under him, but Jim easily shifted his weight to the Vulcan's torso, bearing down hard. Even as he did so, he let his left hand trail downwards to the sensitive inner thighs of his lover and was gratified when Spock's legs parted immediately.

"Do you know," he picked up again, "how hard that was? Well, you must. I distinctly remember any number of carefully cultured remarks traded between you and the good doctor, hmm," he kissed his way further down, felt Spock's hand come to rest in his hair. "Remarks with an astonishingly high ratio of words like hard, and stiff..." Jim's hand traveled down the inside of Spock's leg and then ghosted over the puckered asshole. Now Spock jumped, one hand coming down hard on the bed sheets, the other tightening in Jim's hair. The green cock began to twitch, filling with blood a few centimeters from Jim's face. The Vulcan, eyes still closed and mind firmly ensconced in the sensate wonder of their link, made a demanding little thrust, but Jim shied away and grinned.

Jim's own heart beat was now rising and he had to take a breath to refocus. Compartments started blending into each other and he pushed them apart. He had to remember that he had a point that he wanted to make. "Yes, words like hard, and stiff and... straining, yes? Yes."

Spock was coming more and more alive under Jim's hands. The Vulcan was making small sensual movements as the two lovers teased his sexual drive up through all the layers of harsh Vulcan biology and harsher cultural conditioning. It was most distracting, the way he moved, and Jim would have to make some hard (indeed) command decisions soon about whether to stir and slowly feed that desire or simply let it erupt.

There had been a plan, yes. Once. Plans were good.

He clamped down on Spock's hips and licked at the green penis once, slowly, careful to not break his movement even as the Vulcan tried to buck upwards. Then Jim abandoned the cock and started kissing his way upwards again.

"Jim," Spock whined in protest, eyelids now fluttering. He was wriggling.

"Oh, what is that, lover," Jim teased, crawling upwards with agonizing slowness, "Feeling a bit frustrated, hmm?" He bit at the nipples and the delicious throat which was swallowing rapidly. He eventually came to rest fully atop the stronger man and held his breath as his lover's eyes finally sprang open. They devoured Jim with a black fire that set ablaze something deep and shuddering far inside the human's soul.

Jim had to firmly remind himself about the value of plans.

In a flash, he reached out and gripped the tightening muscles of the Vulcan's arms as hard as he could. "Later," he growled. "Now you're mine, my impertinent friend."

After a second, the muscles beneath his callused hands relaxed, and Spock let out a frustrated groan. "Jim," he pleaded, his vocabulary seemingly reduced to this one word.

Jim tutted at him, but let his hands move to caress the heavy balls beneath the half-hard green shaft for a few moments. He couldn't stop himself any longer, really he was the aggrieved party here, wasn't he, and should be taking his pleasure, shouldn't he? He lowered his lips to the base of the cock before him, and started kissing.

"Spread them," he ordered with a push at Spock's left thigh and as the Vulcan moved to comply, Jim put his hand out towards the night stand and deftly procured some lube. He had to abandon his attentions to the Vulcan's cock in order to open the bottle, and snorted at the wave of frustration coming at him from his mate in response to this delay.

"So demanding," he murmured. "So..." a slicked finger touched at a tight ass-hole and he rode with the Vulcan's reactions and pushed inside in a smooth movement. "So demanding."

He picked up the pace, pushing one, two, three fingers into Spock even as he started bathing the green penis. He couldn't hold Spock down now, but flowed with his jerky movements with accustomed ease. The Vulcan's cock was almost full, his breath labored and his eyes wild. Their gazes locked as Jim looked up and god, if Spock like this wasn't the most beautiful thing the captain had ever seen. Then Spock opened their link up fully and where before Jim had been feeding his own arousal into the Vulcan, the link was now a live two-way connection.

Dammit. Plans never survived first contact with the enemy anyway.

In a flash, Jim reached for the Vulcan's legs, helping him place them over the human's shoulder. He pushed himself inside with little grace and much need and he felt Spock shudder beneath him as his body stretched to accommodate the welcome intrusion. An iron control was enough to keep the captain still for a courteous three seconds before that fell to the wayside and he bent his bond mate double and sank fully into him with a moan. He allowed them four long, hard strokes before he stilled himself, buried as deep as he could. He rested then, much as he had earlier in Spock's mouth, and gloried in how the body around him shook with desire in tandem with the pulsing of their bond.

"Spock, listen," he managed to get out, but Spock shook his head.

"No. Enough. Now! Take me!"

"No, love," he murmured, but started moving in and out with small movements, far from the force that Spock's mind was calling for. "Will you listen, please? Just for a little while."

Spock groaned. "No games."

"No games," Jim agreed.

"Speak then. Quickly."

"You know that I didn't really want any of them, at the ceremony," Jim demanded softly, still rocking.

"Of course."

"Not of course. I know what I felt from you there, in the beginning of the ritual."

Spock grew still. Jim let him and kept his hands travelling in slow circles over the beautiful body, his shallow penetrations rhythmical. It was almost twenty seconds before Spock spoke, voice strained from trying to get reason to co-exist side by side with his demanding body.

"Yes. You are right. But it lasted only for a few moments."

"A few?"

"Fifteen point two seconds."

"Mm. I'm sorry you had to sit through those fifteen point two seconds." Jim adjusted his position, and his hand came down in an apology and promise to ghost against the now-straining cock trapped between them.

"Spock, I might not fully be able to control my body's reactions, but they don't rule my thoughts. They don't rule me." He bent forward and Spock flowed with him until Jim's mouth could kiss the dark, now appropriately tousled, hair. The lips then turned toward the sinfully sexy ear. "You do," he murmured, voice so low that only a Vulcan could have heard him.

"And now, I will make you feel it in every part of your body."

Spock glowered at the wordy human. "Clearly not," he said disdainfully, "Is it not a human saying that words are cheap and... oh! Oh!"

And the rest was lost to the pounding rhythm of their passion.


End file.
